


Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world…

by Yyydelilah



Series: Make it up as we go along [3]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, F/M, Flashbacks, Heartbreak, Homophobia, Infidelity, Inspired by a Movie, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 07:04:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11846445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yyydelilah/pseuds/Yyydelilah
Summary: ...he walks into mine.Ralf has built himself a good life, but his past catches up with him.





	Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world…

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bananasplit86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bananasplit86/gifts).



> This is a spin-off from the “Make it up as we go along” fics and is set in that AU. Having hinted at Ralf the barman’s ‘tragic backstory’ I couldn’t resist exploring it.
> 
> This fic could also be grouped with “This Transcendent Touch” and “Just one day out of Life” as yet again I have been inspired by (*cough*ripped-off*cough*) a film classic (although I only borrowed one line this time)
> 
> Many thanks to Bananasplit86 for her advice, support and correction of typos -ily xx

A rumble of bass guitar riffs rose and fell beneath the steady hum of contented chatter and the clink of glasses that signified another reassuringly busy Saturday night. It had been standing-room-only from the early evening onwards, but the atmosphere had been good natured, and the occasional peel of raucous laughter barely distracted Ralf from the constant stream of orders that flowed across the bar.

That **three** of his staff had decided to leave their due-in-Monday-9am assignments to the last minute and leave him short-handed was a little irritating, but those that remained were coping admirably. Plus, Ralf liked being busy. Busy meant that the place was doing well. He’d been nervous setting up his on own, but in just eighteen months he'd established a loyal clientele and things were ticking over nicely.

Pausing for a breath and a sip of water, Ralf surveyed the fruit of his labour. It wasn't a huge place, artfully scruffy (but hopefully not pretentiously so) with a bar he'd built himself from salvaged wood. His fingers subconsciously traced the grain of the countertop as he thought about how much of the decor had been recycled or rescued out of skips.

Most of his staff seemed to have been rescued in one way or another too. He seemed to attract waifs and strays, oddballs and misfits, all needing someone to give them a chance. In general they didn't let him down, and for the odd disappointment there were five or six who had thrived and shone. He had known what it felt like to be the outsider and what it meant to find a place where you were accepted, so, as much as he was proud of his business success, he was also proud of the weird little family of bar staff he had built with it.

Even when they left him in the lurch on one of the busiest nights of the week.

And even when one of them had just thrown a tray of empty glasses to the floor:

“Oh shit! Oh shit! I’m so sorry, Ralle! I’m so sorry!”

The stricken barmaid clasped her fingers into her bright blue hair, her eyes wide with horror.

“It's fine! It's fine, Anke, honestly! Happens to the best of us! You’ve not hurt yourself, have you?”

“No, no I’m fine” she replied, visibly relaxing as she realised her boss wasn't going to yell at her for her clumsiness. “I’ve got good solid boots on! I can thank the bad weather for something at least!”

“Well, that's lucky then. No,no, don't try picking it up!” Ralf shooed Anke away from the glinting shards of glass. “You carry on serving and I’ll get this cleared.”

He was just brushing away the last splinters, when a shiver ran down his spine.

Maybe the door had let the chill from the storm outside reach him across the stuffy room, or perhaps he had caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye.

Ralf stopped still for a moment. His chest felt tight suddenly but he couldn't explain why, and with an uncharacteristic hesitance he turned back towards the crowded room.

He saw her first - small, blonde and very pretty.

And behind her, was **him** \- tall, blond and…

The room seemed to grow dark. Gripping hard onto the broom in his hand as though it would save him from drowning, Ralf tried to remember how to breathe.

“Ralle! Hey! How are you, man? How are things?”

His hair was different but the eyes were the same.

“Manu-el” The full name tasted strange and bitter on his tongue but Ralf spat it out eventually. “Wha...what are you doing here?”

“Oh, just a quick visit. Show Nina some of the old haunts, you know!”

Manuel smiled and simpered like he hadn't a care in the world. As he draped his arm around his wife’s shoulder, his wedding ring caught a flash of light.

“This isn't one of the old haunts.” _Why are you here? What are you doing here?_

If Ralf’s reply had sounded cold, Manuel's expression barely faltered at it.

“I was thrilled to hear you’d set up a bar of your own! Couldn't wait to see it! It's great, mate! You should be really proud!”

“Thanks”

Ralf thought he was probably expected to smile back, that would be the polite thing to do, but somehow he couldn't force his face to cooperate. Instead he just stared for a moment until he recalled where he was:

“What can I get you to drink?”

Fixing their order at least kept him occupied and able to deflect as much as possible Manuel's attempts at friendly small talk:

“I was hoping to get a chance to catch up with Benni too, while I’m in the neighbourhood.”

“He’s away” Ralf replied. “They’re visiting Lisa’s family before…”

He stopped himself. He didn't feel much like elaborating, but it turned out to be unnecessary anyway:

“Ah, yes!” Manuel beamed again. “I'd heard they were expecting. I wanted to pass on my congratulations.”

“Then I’m afraid you'll be disappointed.” _I’m not certain he'd be entirely pleased to see you either_ , thought Ralf as he placed the couple’s drinks in front of them: “Enjoy. I'm afraid you'll have to excuse me. We're rather short staffed tonight and quite busy as you can see.”

He managed a strained half-smile and a nod at Nina, but his face slipped as his eyes met Manuel's. Those blue eyes did not smile in the way his handsome face did. Whatever was there instead, Ralf could not read it and did not want to.

Turning away, he went back to the role as bartender - the contented and successful barman he had been just moments earlier.

Except he wasn't. He served his customers, bantered with his regulars, tried to carry on as normal, but all too often his thoughts and his eyes wandered over to the little table in the corner where that strikingly beautiful couple sat.

“Hey” Anke caught at his sleeve as he cursed himself for having split beer onto his shoes for the second time in quick succession, “Are you okay? You look rattled”

_For God’s sake! Keep it together, you idiot!_

“I’m fine” he smiled weakly back at her look of concern “It's just been a long day.”

He **would** be fine -once they’d gone. _How long did it take to drink one drink?_

After what felt like a particularly long half an hour, the two glasses were empty. Their route to the door took them past the bar again:

“It was good to see you, Ralle” Manuel's practiced smile was back “Such shame we didn't get a chance to catch up properly.”

“We're traveling back tomorrow I’m afraid” Nina’s apologetic smile seemed entirely sincere and again Ralf managed a thin smile back at her:

“Have a safe journey.”

“Thank you. It was nice to meet you”

“Goodbye Ralle”

It was easier to breathe with them gone but Ralf's mind was still preoccupied.

_How can he just stroll in here after all these years as though nothing happened?_

His hands and limbs worked automatically, carrying on as normal, but seemingly disconnected from the thundering and churning that was going on inside him.

“Are you sure you're alright? You look pale - more so than you usually do I mean. I can stay to lock up if you want to get an early night. You look as though you could use a good sleep.”

Anke’s fussing was kindly meant but grated on Ralf’s already frayed nerves:

“I’m fine, I’m fine, honestly! Thank you for the offer but I’d rather lock up on my own. You get yourself home. I know your David worries about you when you work late.”

“True, he does!” The mention of her boyfriend made Anke’s face light up with that glow of the happily-in-love, which in turn sent another sting through Ralf.

“Well then go to him then. I’ll be okay here”

“Promise to take care of yourself!” Anke demanded, bouncing up on her tiptoes to pat her boss on the head before snatching up her Cookie Monster rucksack and heading for the door, “Sleep well, sweetie!”

Ralf rolled his eyes and then immediately felt guilty. Why should he be cranky with someone who actually cared about him? Usually he was the first to defend Anke's eccentricities.

The final customers seemed to be taking forever to finish their drinks and Ralf was short on patience. He wanted to get cleared up and home as soon as possible, turn this evening into just one more painful memory. His haste must have made him forget to secure the door behind the last punter because as he was hoisting the chairs onto the tables he heard it open behind him.

“Oh for God’s sake! We're closed!”

He snapped as he span round.

Of course it was **him**.

Manuel stood in the doorway accompanied by an icy blast of night air. Behind him it was starting to rain again, the first drops falling through the beam of the streetlight.

“Can I come in?”

Ralf was powerless to answer, struck dumb by the conflict of emotions that overtook him. There was no safety net for him this time, no other customers to be served, he could not play the bartender now. He was alone and exposed to the full force of the hurt and anger - long dormant but reawakened by the vision of their instigator.

Without waiting for an invitation, Manuel was already walking towards him:

“Ralle, I…”

“Why are you here, Manuel?” Ralf cut across him before he could say anything else. Of all his feelings, it was the anger that had won out. “What is it you want?”

There was no mistaking the bitterness in Ralf's voice this time and Manuel paused, no longer so self-assured.

“I wanted to see you,” he said quietly, calmly. “I wanted to see how you were doing”

Ralf shook his head:

“Not after all this time. Not out of the blue, with your new wife in tow. No, there's something you want, I know there is.”

“Am I really that selfish?”

_Yes!_

Manuel knew the answer without Ralf even saying it. He dropped his eyes to the floor.

“Tell me why you're here, Manuel.”

Manuel closed his eyes and took a deep breath before speaking:

“I need my letters back. The letters I wrote to you when we were...that summer. I need you to give them to me.”

Ralf’s stomach dropped. He felt so, so stupid that he hadn't seen this coming, but, in truth, he hadn't.

Despite his best efforts, he'd not been able to avoid seeing glimpses Manuel's meteoric rise. The promising young lawyer-turned politician had been one of Munich’s most eligible bachelors, the darling of the gossipy press, and since his fairytale marriage, was rumoured to be in the running for even greater things.

“Why do you need them?” He could guess the answer, of course he could, but he needed to make Manuel admit it, to feel the sordidness, the grubbiness of what he was trying to do.

“I...I need them...if...if someone got hold...in the wrong hands…”

“Are mine ‘the wrong hands’?”

The words had more meaning that he'd intended and forced Manuel's eyes up to meet his.

There was pain there. Ralf wanted to feel triumph at that, wanted to be pleased he could hurt Manuel too, but it didn’t feel like a victory.

Manuel looked away again:

“I can pay you for them” he said “More than anyone else would give you.”

“You really think I’d sell them! You think I’d take your money!” Ralf was incredulous.

“So you’d rather destroy me, is that it?” Manuel snarled like a cornered animal, “Everything I’ve worked for?”

“Destroy you?”

Ralf's eyes were wide as he stared at the man before him.

This wasn't the suave, confident Manuel of earlier, nor was this the bright, carefree youth he had once known. This was a worried man, a man tormented by secrets, no longer in complete control; a man lashing out.

When he spoke again, Ralf's voice was quiet but disdainful:

“So this is how little you think of me? Money and power may be the only things that matter in your world, Manuel, but they’re not the only things in mine.”

His words seemed to sting. He meant them to.

“Ralle, I…. I didn't...you…” Manuel floundered but Ralf was too upset for endearments and excuses:

“Save it! You made yourself perfectly clear and now I want you to leave. Crawl back to where you came from, where people have a price apparently, because you don't belong here!”

He advanced on a shrinking Manuel, herding him back towards the doorway:

“Don't worry yourself about those letters. I burned them all the day you left. I have no power over you anymore, just as you have none over me!”

Manuel stepped back over the threshold and into the dark and cold.

“Ralf, I…”

Ralf would not hear him out:

“Have a good life, Manuel” and he closed the door on him, pulling down the shutters.

Stepping back, Ralf's legs seemed to buckle beneath him and he staggered as though he'd been punched. He grabbed the nearest chair and slumped over one of the bar tables, his heart pounding. The ice in his veins as he had thrown Manuel out, was now burning fire. His breathing was ragged, his head was spinning.

Thoughts and feelings that he had pushed away for years now overwhelmed him. He closed his eyes and saw bright sunlight on golden hair…

 

 

_It had been a glorious summer. Day after day of warm sunshine and perfect blue skies. The kind of summer that made every colour seem brighter and every scent sweeter._

_They’d spent the afternoons playing football with Benni and the other guys in the park, but when the sun started to sink they’d slink away, just the two of them, to the their secret place down by the canal._

_The first time Manu had kissed him, he had floated home on air. The taste of his lips, the heat of his touch, their breathless promises._

_Together they had soared so high and the world had spread out before their feet; so young, so full of hope. Soon every free moment was spent in each other's arms, and they cursed the work and family obligations that kept them apart._

_Ralle had got himself a summer job collecting and washing glasses in one of the downtown pubs. The hours were unsociable and the pay was lousy, but by the end of the summer he’d have enough to go travelling with Manu. They’d planned the whole thing..._

 

 

The rattle of shutters in the wind banished the memories of warm summer sun. Ralf shivered. He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting in the dark but it was certainly late and the rain wasn't getting any lighter. Leaving whatever was left of the cleaning until the morning, he snatched up his coat and made his way out into the storm.

 

When he got home, his flat felt colder and emptier than usual.

Despite the hour, Ralf knew sleep was out of the question. His mind and heart were too full. Instead, he lit the fire, and, as the first flames began to bring a warm glow to the gloomy room, made his way over to the bookcase.

He pulled down a rather scruffy and dated guidebook, deftly catching the sheets of paper that fell from between its pages...

 

 

_For hearts that burned so fiercely, separation, even for a few days, had been intolerable. Manu was obliged to visit family out of town. Ralle had to work._

_To fill the void they had written letters, expressing the tender emotions that until then their clumsy youthful tongues could only express in kisses._

_Manu wrote more. He had more time to write, and more skill with words. Ralle had always been better with his hands, but loved the solid, physical feel of the paper in his hand when the touch of his lover was absent. It was something real to hold onto, some proof that this was more than dreaming._

_Finally, finally, he had saved enough. The summer was beginning to fade but their adventure was just beginning. The tickets were booked, bags packed. They were to meet at the railway station in the early morning._

 

_It had been raining on the platform, or at least in Ralf’s memory it had been raining._

_Instead of Manu, there was Benni, looking pale and clutching a hurriedly scribbled note._

 

Ralf was almost surprised he still had it, creased where it had been crushed in his hand and spotted with water. Its words were seared on his memory:

 

> **_Dearest Ralle,_ **
> 
> **_I cannot go with you. I cannot see you again. Please do not ask why. Just believe that I love you._ **
> 
> **_Travel safe and may God bless you with the happiness we can no longer share._ **
> 
> **_Manu_ **

 

_Ralf had boarded the train that day with no intention of ever returning. He had travelled through Europe and Asia, seeking refuge amongst strange sights and new faces, running from the pain of his shattered heart._

_Until his money ran out and he had to go back._

_Work had saved him in the end - work and the support of the friends who stayed, friends who knew better than to mention Manuel or what had happened. Word reached him that he was in Munich but he tried his best to avoid hearing his name. He learnt not to feel the pain._

_This time he saved for his own future, his alone._

_He had rebuilt his life, worked hard, and carefully guarded the scar tissue of his heart._

_And it had worked out fine._

_Until **he** had come back. _

 

 

A sudden knock at the door startled Ralf back to the present.

There weren't many people who would pay a social call at this hour. It could only really be one person.

The knocking persisted, getting louder. Ralf considered ignoring it and then remembered that his elderly neighbour was a light sleeper. No one else should have their sleep disturbed tonight!

He opened the door. Manuel was soaked to the skin, his designer raincoat no match for the storm, and looked rather pitiful.

Ralf sighed, exhausted:

“How are you here? Did you follow me?”

Manuel shook his head, sending droplets flying:

“I waited.”

“Waited?”

“For you to come home”

Ralf blinked at him in confusion. Instinctively, without thinking whether or not he should, he stepped aside to let the wet, cold man into the warm apartment.

“But how did you know where I live?”

Manuel looked sheepish as he moved toward the spluttering fire:

“The ‘net” he shrugged, “Remember you were selling your old Xbox? I was the guy who paid but never showed up to collect it.”

Conscious of keeping his voice down, Ralf let out a hiss of annoyance and frustration:

“You sly, scheming bastard. You couldn't just have asked Benni?”

“I did!” Manuel turned to look at him “He wouldn't tell me. He told me to stay away.”

“You should have listened to him! And you didn't think to try calling? Was that not dramatic enough for you? You wanted to cause maximum damage?”

“You’d have hung up!”

Even in his simmering rage, Ralf laughed at this.

“True” he nodded, “That's true, I would have!”

“And I needed to put things right”

Manuel's voice was soft and tender, but Ralf had built his defences over many years. He would not be taken in:

“You're not interested in ‘putting things right’! You came back to protect your precious career!”

Manuel was silent. He turned to look into the fireplace, at the flames dancing in the darkness:

“I thought… after all this time...that I could see you again and be alright. I knew you'd hate me. I don't blame you…”

“Don't you dare!” Ralf wouldn't listen to another word. Manuel was always so good with words. “Don't you dare try to make out that I should feel sorry for you! You didn't come here for me. You came for these!”

He snatched up the faded letters, the pages fluttering slightly in his shaking hand.

Manuel's eyes grew wide:

“You kept them? But you...I thought...all these years...but why?”

“Why did I keep them?” _Why do you think?_ “I have no idea!”

With a swift movement, Ralf threw the crumpled letters into the fire.

“Happy now?”

Paper met flame, flared and flew upwards, charred to ashes in an instant.

Manuel watched dumbfounded, spellbound:

“You kept them” he murmured.

One page had been caught on a hot rising stream of vapour and drifted, its edges smouldering, back out into the room. Impervious to the heat, Manuel pulled it out of the flames’ reach and looked down at his own handwriting.

Ralf watched his face, torn between wanting to snatch it back from him, and needing to see his reaction.

After a minute, Manuel looked up with brimming eyes:

“I meant every word” he whispered.

Ralf found he could not reply immediately. The words wouldn’t come.

“But you left me” he said at last, his voice cracking as he did so, “Just...I need...tell me why?”

Slumping down in an arm chair, Manuel put his head in his hands. When he spoke he sounded like a teenager again:

“They found out, my parents, they found out that we were...not just friends. One of their friends saw us I think and told them the day before we were due to leave. They wouldn't let me go with you! They took my passport!”

There was a desperation in his voice as though he were reliving the confrontation in his mind:

“I was packed off to Munich that day and they threatened to cancel my tuition completely if I ever saw you again. I managed to sneak across the street to Benni’s with that note while they were packing the car, but I couldn't explain. I didn't get time!”

“But you’ve had years!” Ralf was back on the platform again, broken hearted and raging. “A phone call? A letter? Nothing! Your parents aren't your excuse anymore. You could have told me this years ago!”

“I couldn't bear to see you hate me, or, worse, forget me. You had every right to. I was weak. I regretted it every day.”

His words hung in the air between them.

He looked so broken that it took all Ralf's strength not to reach out to him.

“But now you have a new life.” Ralf tried to sound calmer than he felt. This was fact, unalterable fact. “Nina seems nice.”

“She is”

“You love her” A statement, not a question.

“Yes”

Manuel paused:

“But not like I love you”

All Ralf’s carefully built defensive walls were no match for a thunderbolt like that. His heart raced, leaving logic and reason in its wake.

“Manu…”

“Ralle please!”

Manuel had crossed the room in a moment and now stood before him, close enough to feel his breath as he whispered:

“I never stopped loving you, never”

Every fibre of Ralf's body seemed to scream with the need to touch him, to hold him close. It was fire and it would consume him.

“Manu...”

He kissed him and he floated on air once more.

 

…

 

The storm had stilled but there was as yet no dawn to herald in a new morning. Only the obnoxiously bright digits of the alarm clock signalled that very soon the world would be waking.

Ralf had slept for a little while but, on opening his eyes to find a slumbering Manu curled against his chest, he had been unable to sleep again. The soft snoring and the lines on his forehead that had not been there years before were enough to convince Ralf that this was not merely some very vivid dream.

A dream might have a happy ending, or at least might fade gradually. Ralf knew what awaited them both was more like a rude awakening. He may not be dreaming but this was no more reality than if he had been deeply asleep.

They could not go back, no matter how hard they wished to. They were no longer on the brink of adulthood with the their whole lives ahead of them. They were both living their lives - separate lives.

The man in his arms was not his. Maybe once he had been, and perhaps for a little while last night he had been again, but the fact remained he belonged to another, and that could not be so easily ignored in the cold beginnings of the new day.

Guilt crawled beneath Ralf's skin and settled, heavy over his heart. He knew that when Manu woke, when he saw those eyes and that smile, he would falter. Desire had overwhelmed his conscience briefly, but he knew now he had to do the right thing, for both their sakes.

He slipped from beneath his sleeping lover and silently to the bathroom. The face in the mirror was not that of an impulsive, besotted youth, nor of a bitter, troubled young man, but of a man who had built himself a good life, a contented life. That was something to hold on to; something solid and tangible.

The ring on Manuel's finger was solid and tangible too.

Dressing quickly and gathering up Manuel's scattered clothing, Ralf crouched by the side of the bed.

“Manuel?” he said gently, “It's time to wake up.”

Manuel groaned and stretched and rolled over onto his back. His eyes opened and he blinked at the ceiling. A smile played across his lips briefly.

“Ralle?” He sat up and looked towards the man standing over him.

The sorrow and resignation must have been apparent in Ralf's face as he frowned and stretched out his hand:

“Ralf?”

“You need to be getting back” Ralf's throat felt thick but he forced his voice not to waiver, “Get dressed. I can drive you to your hotel before you’re missed.”

“I...I don't understand.”

The newly woken Manuel had not had the time to process all that happened, but Ralf would do the thinking for both of them:

“Your life isn't here anymore. If you stay you’ll regret it.” Manuel tried to speak but Ralf continued, “ _ **Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life.**_ We’ll both regret it. You need to go back to Munich, to your life there... to your wife.”

“What about us?”

Ralf sighed but was resolute:

“There’ll always be an ‘us’. There wasn't...we’d lost that until you came back. We got it back last night. It won't leave us again, I’m sure of that, but you have to go back now.”

Manuel looked as though he wanted to say something but no words came. Instead he took Ralf's hand and held it tightly for a moment. Then he picked up his clothes and made his way to the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

 

The car journey was short. Ralf wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse. He parked just around the corner from the hotel.

“I doubt the staff will be awake enough at this hour to notice you sneak back in.”

Manuel smiled wryly:

“You're probably right. And Nina will be sound asleep until 8:30.” A look of pain flickered across his face. “She won't have noticed I’d gone.”

The silence that followed was thick with unexpressed thoughts.

“We could keep driving” Manuel murmured, his eyes fluttering shut. “Just drive, just go, just the two of us.”

“We’d still be running away” said Ralf, gently, “We’ve both done a lot of that, but it's time to stop now.”

Manuel turned to look at him:

“I’ll always love you, you know that, right?”

“And I love you. But that is why you have to let me go.”

Manuel nodded and place a hand on the door handle:

“Goodbye Ralf. Promise me you'll be happy.”

“I will”

For a second, Ralf thought Manuel was about to kiss him, but then he turned and got out of the car. He walked quickly away and around the corner without turning back.

Ralf watched him go.

“One day I will” he said softly to no one but himself. Then he turned the key in the ignition and drove away.

...


End file.
